


And in the end, This is all that's left. (It can be fun at times though.)

by CescaLR



Series: The College years; or wherein Scott, Lydia and Stiles are flatmates, and the rest of the pack is suspiciously missing. [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Clubbing, Drinking, F/M, M/M, Multi, Reflection, scott pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 02:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8514361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CescaLR/pseuds/CescaLR
Summary: Scott is dragged to an underground-ish club by Stiles and Lydia.This is not a fun outing. For him, anyway.(His friends are ridiculous, though.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know this came out of nowhere.  
> (un-beta-ed)

Scott is sober. He’s sober, and bored, and at a party Stiles and Lydia dragged him to, despite the fact none of them have a significant other to enjoy it with.

(When he pointed this out, Stiles rolled his eyes at him, said _that’s the point Scotty_ and Lydia smiled in the rear-view mirror, applying a layer of blood-red to her lips, a glint in her green eyes. )

So yes. He’s bored, and sober, and currently being hit on by some girl from his English class with big, doe eyes (a specific shade of brown) and black hair (another specific shade), soft yet angular facial features, and he excuses himself because she looks like both of them.

(And one is dead; the other may as well be for the likelihood he’ll ever see her again.)

So Scott wanders. It’s been a good few hours, he thinks, as he watches the other party-goers; some drinking, some chatting, some – oh wait, that’s Lydia – and some dancing; or rather gyrating against each other, sweat and body odour mingling in ways his nose isn’t too fond of.

(He prefers calmer parties; like the ones Lydia used to throw. Before this was the sort of thing that became the norm.)

Stiles still has the Jeep’s keys on him; he’d pilfered them out of Scott’s back pocket, somehow without Scott noticing it. Scott figures it was a way to keep him there with them. It worked, unfortunately.

Scott sighs, resigns himself to having to buy a new coke when he comes back and places his unfinished drink on the bar. Ignoring the people trying to catch his eye, he manoeuvres his way through the crowd and ignores the drunk people who try to grab him and persuade him to dance with them; just carefully shakes their hand off and continues on.

Deciding on the back room where he’s fairly certain gambling usually takes place; as that’s where Stiles generally goes off too and comes back richer (or much poorer; but Stiles was always a lucky guy, and so he rarely ever lost. There’s also the cheating Scott carefully turns a blind eye to, as the money does end up helping to pay for their bills).

At least, Scott hopes it’s one of those nights. He’s never accidentally walked in on anything, but well. It could happen.

Like this time, for instance. Scott knocks, and a muffled _give us a sec_ tells him he just missed out on awkwardly walking in on his basically-brother making out with someone.

He hears the shuffling of fabric, muffled curses and the exchanging of numbers, and when the door opens and Stiles bends his head around it and greets Scott with a slurred _yo, Scotty._ Scott sighs and holds his hand out. Stiles manages, even with clouded, dark whiskey eyes, to look at him flatly, as if Scott’s being ridiculous, before he hands over the keys.

 _This time?_ Scott asks, and Stiles glances behind himself, before he seems to get some form of acceptance, because he opens the door.

Scott is not surprised in the slightest when he sees Caitlin still trying to get an arm through her sleeve with drunken movements, nor is he surprised to see the girl’s open-relationship other passed out haphazardly over two of the stools that were usually placed at the table.

Scott looked at Stiles, who grinned unashamedly before clapping him on the shoulder. _He passed out a few ago. Can’t hold his drink, such a shame really._ And Scott tells him to go find Lydia before he can share any unwanted anecdotes about his sex life. Because really. He’s heard far too many by now, anyway.

And Stiles walks calmly past him, somehow drunk as all hell yet more co-ordinated here, amongst the chaos and craziness than in his daily life.

Scott shakes his head, nods to Caitlin, who smiles, her brown and pink, half shaved hair brushing her shoulder as her head bobs quickly. The girl blushes slightly, still trying to put her arm through her sleeve. She shrugs, and discards the top. He sighs, turns around and leaves, and ignores the way she shouts after him.

He finds Stiles and Lydia laughing, in conversation with Danny, who _must_ be more drunk than the other two combined, because he’s actually flirting with _Stiles,_ who he doesn’t really like.

(But then, it’s Danny. He can do what he wants.)

Scott sighs, and taps Lydia on her shoulder. She glances at him, pokes Stiles, once then twice, and once his attention is moved from _‘Danny-boy’_ (Seriously, Stiles? You’re drunk, yeah. But _come on._ ) she inclines her head in the direction of the door.

They say their goodbyes, and leave the club. (It’s an underground one, technically. It uses the places Derek used to haunt; there’s plenty of room in the abandoned part of the downtown area that it goes un-noticed.)

Stiles is holding up and being held up by Lydia, and Scott resigns himself to being a chauffeur again, as Lydia demands he take her back to their place.

He does, and the two of them disappear off upstairs.

(Lydia and Stiles deal with losing their significant others in different ways to himself, it seems. Scott takes out an old, worn photo album, only a few years in use but already falling apart at the seams. He looks through their teenage years, and Remembers.

They’re no more than young adults, and they’ve already seen and lost so much. Scott thinks his drink may have been spiked, because he’s not usually this reflective anymore.

It would explain his mood.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short something. I was bored, I guess.  
> This did not turn out how it was in my head, haha. There was supposed to be more Stiles/Danny, but Caitlin and her open boyfriend(s)/Girlfriend(s) was a bit too much to pass up on.  
> Also it got a bit more angsty than it was in my head, but then again nothing can be written by me and be like, super happy haha.


End file.
